A Little Perspective
by SquiggleB
Summary: Artie's starting to wonder if maybe he's missing something...
1. The first hint

"So I had the chick up against the lockers and..."

"Puck shut up." That was Quinn.

"-And she started pulling off my jacket,"

"Would you shut up?" Mercedes spoke up.

"So then I can't even believe it, she reaches up and pulls off her..."

"Noah I'm inclined to agree that this isn't the appropriate time to be..." Rachel started.

"-Shirt, then she undoes her freaking bra, I was like damn this girl is good to go you know?"

"Noah! Shut your damn mouth before I shut it for you!" All heads whipped around to look at Santana in the back row of the choir room, whose eyes were now trained on the back of Puck's head like something out of Predator. At least that's what Artie thought it looked like. Maybe he had stayed up too late watching sci-fi movies last night though.

"Hey Santana you need to chill out, I thought you'd love a good topless chick story." Puck turned in his seat to look at the Latina, a self assured smirk on his face that clearly indicated he was amused by his own wit.

Instead of inciting a torrent of rage like such a jibe usually would, the joke this time hung in the air, Santana freezing in her seat as brown eyes bore unwaveringly into Puck's.

"What did you just say?" Her voice was quiet, deadly.

The fact that he had done something very wrong became immediately apparent to Puck, whose smirk faltered as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat under the piercing gaze.

"Babe lighten up it was just a joke, seriously."

Artie looked on the scene with what he supposed was a similar expression to that on the faces of his class mates. The same sort of expression you might expect to see on the face of someone who has discovered the timer on the suitcase bomb had just reached zero. The sudden realisation of impending carnage.

Eyes never leaving Puck's face, Santana watched him for a beat with a look that could only be called venomous before finally responding.

"Do not, ever, call me babe." The room was silent; every slight creak of the plastic chairs bouncing off the walls and magnifying.

"Whatever, you used to love it when I called you babe," The smirk was back, Puck apparently unwilling to lose face on this particular argument, "Especially when we were getting it..."

"Right guys how was everyone's... What's going on here?" My Shuester strolled into the room with impeccable timing as always but paused where he stood, bag still in hand as he picked up on the unmissable tension in the atmosphere.

"Nothing Mr Shue, Santana and I were just taking a little trip down memory lane, weren't we _babe_?" Puck flashed another grin over his shoulder.

"Oooh, boy gonna get it." Artie muttered under his breath chuckling. Honestly he was kind of enjoying the entertainment. He felt a sudden wrenching as the hand that had been clasped in his was tugged forcibly back, looking up in time to see Brittany's face contorting into a rare frown. What was her problem?

"You know what _Noah_," Santana emphasised his name, voice still disturbingly calm, "I never loved anything about when we used to get it on, quite frankly you were as interesting a screw as a dead tree, and just about as skilled too. So when are you going to realise no one wants to listen to your bullshit stories and do myself and the kind people in this room a favour and shut. the hell. up!"

Noah leapt out of his seat in the front row and twirled around to face her, face already turning a bright shade of red at the insult. There was a collective intake of breath from the class as everyone watched, riveted, to see where this was going. Artie was reminded of a car crash, he knew it was going to be bad but he couldn't look away.

"Oh so is that why you kept coming back for more? Or is it because _blondie_ was holding out on you?"

Artie frowned as he glanced towards Sam. He'd always wondered about the blonde boy but seriously, holding out on sex? Maybe Kurt had been right all along. Only he noticed Sam was wearing a similarly confused expression which didn't really make any sense, because everyone else in the room was glancing at each other knowingly. Artie considered himself to be a fairly intelligent guy, so why was he the last one on the uptake?

Beside him Brittany was fidgeting restlessly, snatching her hand out of reach as he made a grab for it once more. He glanced into her face to see a nervous expression as she avoided his eyes. Really, what was going on here?

A scraping sound drew his attention to the back of the choir room once again as Santana slowly got out of her seat and descended the steps to the front of the room coming to a stop right in front of Puck. Even though the girl was several inches shorter, in that moment she seemed to be towering above him.

"Alright guys seriously enough, I don't want these kinds of arguments in my classroom," Mr Shuester finally stepped in.

"Yeah, that's what I thought." Puck looked her straight in eyes confidently, ignoring Mr Shue's weak attempt at supervision, although from where Artie was sitting he could see Puck's booted feet shuffle back ever so slightly.

"You don't know the first thing about me Noah." Santana hissed.

"Yeah? I know where you go most Friday nights. Bet you thought you were being sneaky about that huh? Well I'll make you a deal, I'll keep your little secret if you let me watch you two..."

The unmistakable sound of an open palm on soft skin bounced off the walls like a gunshot ringing out causing Artie to jump in his wheelchair. Beside him Brittany flinched as though it was her that had been hit, and she recoiled back into her chair.

Puck swore loudly as his head jerked to the right with the force of the slap, stumbling back a step or two. By the time he turned around Santana was marching towards the door, fists clenched by her side and anyone could see she was struggling to maintain her calm.

Artie was more concerned with Brittany who looked like a wounded animal as she stared aghast at the door Santana had just fled through, so absorbed that she jumped when he touched her on the shoulder.

"Hey are you alright?" He asked tentatively.

Brittany didn't reply, by the looks of it she hadn't even heard him; instead she just sat chewing her lip, her eyebrows drawn in concentration. He was about to repeat the question when suddenly, almost as if she had won some sort of internal debate, she jumped out of her seat and started running towards the door.

"Brit, where are you going?"

She turned back to him for a second, face plagued with uncertainty and... was it regret?

"Sorry Artie I just... I can't."

Artie sat dumbfounded as he watched his girlfriend disappear with a flash of blonde ponytail around the corner. Puck stood scowling and rubbing his face while the rest of the class turned to each other with raised eyebrows, still no one daring to say a word. The room was silent again for a minute before Artie couldn't stand it anymore.

"Seriously would someone tell me what's going on here?"

He glanced around the class but no one would meet his eyes.


	2. The decision

*Brittany's POV*

Brittany was at a crossroads. Not metaphorically, but literally, she was looking at three different hallways she could choose and had no idea which direction to take. Santana had about a thirty second head start so she could be halfway to the car park by now. Brittany had long legs and she knew she would probably be able to catch the girl, she just didn't know which way to run.

She grabbed her phone out of her pocket and dialled the number she knew so well.

"Hello?"

"Santana! Where are you?"

"Honey?"

"Santana you have to tell me where you are I'm coming to find you."

"Sweetie, I'm at work what are you talking about?"

"But I just saw you run out of class and I'm trying to find you!"

"Brittany, it's Mum. You called the wrong number. And why aren't you in class?"

"Oh. Um... School assignment. Have to go finish it now. Bye!"

Brittany flipped the phone shut. Whoops. Maybe she should start using the address book instead of dialling by memory. It wasn't exactly the first time this had happened. She tried the right number this time and predictably it rang out to voicemail.

Brittany wracked her brain to think of where the girl might have gone. Inspiration struck and she took the left corridor, finding the room she was after and bursting through the door with a crash. A girl of about 13 stood at the bathroom counter, jumping a mile at Brittany's sudden intrusion, eyes wide with alarm as she swivelled around to face the door.

"Is Santana Lopez in here?" Brittany demanded forcefully. She didn't know why she was talking like that, probably because the girl had looked so guilty that it made Brittany feel like she was in one of those detective shows her Dad always watched. The girl shook her head speechlessly.

Returning to the corridor, Brittany could only think of one other place significant enough that Santana might have gone. Sure enough when she jogged down out on to the football pitch, at the other end of the stadium she could see a lone figure sitting beneath the bleachers.

"Hey." Brittany said quietly, approaching Santana who had her back against one of the supports, her knee's tucked tightly to her chest. The other girl glanced up, scowled and fixed her attention back on the cement.

"How did you find me?"

"You brought me here that time I accidentally called the English teacher Mum and all the boys were laughing at me and it made me cry, remember? You told me it was the place you came to be alone."

Santana simply grunted in response.

"San, you have to know that..."

"Why aren't you back in Glee club with Foureyes" She spat out the word out like it was a foul taste in her mouth.

"I... Because I wanted to be here with you."

"Well I want to be alone so you can leave now."

Brittany blinked at the harsh tone and scuffed her foot lightly, feeling suddenly nervous. She almost always did what Santana said, but this time she really didn't want to leave.

"Please don't be mad. I know Puck was a jerk but it's okay because I don't think Artie knew what..."

"Artie? _Artie? _You think I give a shit what he knows? Hell if he hasn't worked it out by now it's his own damn fault. And anyway you picked him remember? So why don't you run on back to Mr Suspenders and his gang of merry losers and just leave me alone."

Brittany hesitated, trying to think of the best way to express what she wanted to say. Word's didn't flow as easily for her as they did for most people, especially when she knew she had something really important to say and she had to get it right.

Seeing Brittany hesitate the brunette jumped to her feet, glowering in a way that had made the average student of McKinley High crumble in fear on many occasions. But never in her life had she seen that look directed at her.

"S-San?" Brittany was afraid. Not because Santana eyes in that moment looked like they could start fires, but because those eyes had never held anything but love when they looked at Brittany before.

"I think it's pretty clear where your loyalties lie _Brittany,_ so if you're not going to leave then I will."

Santana pushed passed Brittany, her shoulder brushed her friends, almost as though she had wanted to shove the taller girl but hadn't the heart to go through with it.

"Santana please. _Please._" Brittany choked on the last word, desperation and panic taking over as she watched her best friend walking away.

Santana froze rigidly where she stood several steps away, back still to Brittany.

"San I... I want... Don't leave me."

Santana didn't move or say a word, simply stood there with her arms pinned to her sides and shoulders tensed. Brittany noticed her foot twitch slightly, like it was dying to inch away.

Brittany rushed forward and flung herself into Santana's back, wrapping her arms firmly around her best friends waist terrified that if she let go Santana would walk away and leave her alone.

"Brit, what are you doing? Get off me."

"No." Brittany pouted knowing that Santana had never been able to resist it when she did. Of course now that she thought about it Santana couldn't see her face right now.

"Brittany I'm serious, you made your choice, you don't get to feel bad when I walk away any more ok? You walked away from me first so would you just," She jerked forward, wrenching herself out of Brittany's reach, "Leave me alone!"

Without even turning back to look at the blonde girl, Santana stepped forward at tried to leave in the direction of school again when with a sudden jerk her arm wrenched her body backwards and nearly toppled her to the floor.

She looked down incredulously to see a pinkie wrapped firmly around her own, so tightly that the knuckles were starting to go white. As Santana's eyes travelled up to meet her own, Brittany stared unblinkingly back, hoping that they would express the words she couldn't articulate.

"No Santana, I'm sick of this! You hurt me first. You made me feel like nobody would want me, and then Artie was there... and he made me feel good again. But it's not fair, you're angry with me and it's making me sad." Blue eyes started welling up as they looked intently into brown, "You told me you'd never let anyone hurt me. But it's you. You're the one hurting me."

Santana swallowed, gulping back the lump in her throat at the truth in her best friends' words and that overprotective instinct that the sight of tears in those baby blue eyes always seemed to ignite.

"Brit..." Santana flung herself bodily into Brittany's arms, crushing their bodies together like it had been a lifetime and not weeks that they had been apart. Even as she held her best friend close, she could hear the hitch in the smaller girls breathing, which she knew from experience meant the Santana was trying to hold back tears.

They shakily pulled apart, Brittany cocking her head to the side as she watched the myriad of emotions crossing her friends face. Ok, maybe Brittany wasn't exactly an A+ student, but emotions, or Santana's at least, were something she understood intimately. And right now Santana was scared.

"Brit. I meant what I said that day. But I'm hurting too, I hurt every time I see you with... _him. _Because it should be me. It should always have been me... I'm sorry."

"I know."

"You know what?" Santana tilted her head in confusion.

"It should be you. I want it to be you."

They looked at each other, neither speaking or moving, just absorbing the meaning of the words that were now hanging in the air.

"But you're with him still." It wasn't a question.

"I... maybe." She avoided Santana's eyes. She didn't want to hurt Artie, she just wanted Santana more. She reflected for a moment on just how much simpler life would be if she understood it like she understood dancing. A simple round off back handspring followed by a double flip always worked in dance class. But that probably wouldn't apply to this situation, Brittany thought forlornly.

"But do you... I mean... you want to be with me?" Brittany nodded. "More than him?" Another nod. "But you don't want to hurt him?" Brittany nodded again, this time looking away so she didn't have to see the sadness in her best friends' eyes.

"Hey," Santana reached out and took Brittany's hand holding it like it was glass, turning it over and linking a pinkie with her own. "We'll work this out. Ok?"

Brittany stared back into Santana's face, reading sadness across her features. But there was something else there now, something bubbling up that hadn't been there moments ago. Hope.

"Ok. I trust you."

* * *

><p><strong>Authors Note: I was going to make this all angsty and then today was so beautiful and I just couldn't do it. Honestly let me know if you want me to continue or not, it's all for the people who wanted more so if you're content I'll leave it. I live to serve.<strong>


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